The Art of Spoon Molesting
by Beansprout-Ninja
Summary: /It was strange- he had never considered the thought that he might fear the unrealistic idea of an apocalypse. Nor that Ryou would be the one to change his mind./ YBxRB Crack


**Inspiration**: This was inspired by a conversation my friend and I had over hot chocolate. During the entire conversation I was licking a spoon. My friend told me to stop molesting it. And a one-shot was born!

**Disclaimer**: I will own Yu-Gi-Oh when sporks take over the world. 4Kids will be the first to go!

I warn you. This is crack-y. Such things happen when I've had too little sleep.

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><p>Bakura had seen several ghastly horrors in his past life. His entire village annihilated, his family dropped into a bubbling pot of molten lava… He wasn't afraid to look Death in the face and spit in his eye.<p>

But this… this was unbelievable. Horrendous, even.

"Isn't this pudding delicious, Bakura?"

His former host sat across him, the most innocent of facial expressions residing on his delicate features, and a spoon held up to his mouth by one of his hands. Bakura didn't respond, didn't move; he simply remained in his chair, glaring darkly at the large bowl of chocolate pudding sitting silent and unmoving on the surface of the table.

At the blank stare in response, a suspicious eyebrow shot up to flirt with his hairline. "Bakura? Are you alright?"

Silence as silent and unmoving as the older male and the bowl of pudding was the only reply. Hell, the silence was louder and more active than Bakura and the victim of his most vicious glare.

Ryou rolled his eyes. Ever since he began to eat the pudding, Bakura hadn't made a single sound or movement- he would have more luck conversing with a wall.

Ryou shoved the spoon through the dark, gooey substance and brought the sweet mixture up to his lips. Shooting another questioning glance in Bakura's direction, he enveloped the spoon with the wetness of his mouth, humming happily at the sweet, addictive taste lingering on his tongue.

Bakura's gaze flicked from the bowl to Ryou. Ryou didn't notice, too intent on finishing with licking off a good portion of the pudding he had collected, and had now preceded with removing the remainder of the substance from the shiny metal of the spoon.

To anyone whose mind wasn't in the gutter, it was a seemingly innocent action. Unfortunately, Bakura's mind knew of no other place but the gutter.

A deep inhale of breath was taken and his eyes were squeezed shut, much as a little child does when they are afraid of the dark and a thunderstorm has caused a sudden power outage.

"Bakura, what's wrong with you?" Bakura opened one eye, praying to any god that would listen that Ryou had finished off his spoonful of pudding.

It was not to be for Ryou had finished off the pudding, but he sure as hell hadn't stopped molesting the spoon with his tongue.

For all that was holy…

"Would you stop bloody licking the bloody, gods-be-damned spoon!" he exclaimed, his tone of voice clearly stating that he was beyond exasperated.

Ryou didn't drop the spoon, but he did stop the movements of his tongue. He gazed at Bakura in surprise- not really at his outburst, but the unknown reason as to _why_ he had reacted in such a way to his consumption of the dessert. "This pudding is delicious! I'm just trying to get every last lick."

Another deep inhale of breath- meant to be calming, but succeeding in only increasing his blood pressure. "I wish you'd give my cock as much attention as you give that forsaken spoon," he retorted.

Bakura expected a blush- perhaps redder than Ryou had ever blushed before. But he didn't. His face remained its stark pale shade and the only sign that he had comprehended Bakura's previous statement was the smirk slowly creeping its way across his lips.

That was not a good sign… not at all.

"Ryou..?" It was more of a question than anything. Because who wouldn't be curious as to why innocent little Ryou was smiling in such a devious way?

"I do admit," Ryou began, "this spoon is lacking in both size and performance." A gasp for breath. Not from Ryou, but from Bakura. Ryou's smirk crept forward in width, and the twinkle of smug mischief was evident in the brown orbs of his eyes. "Perhaps," he continued with a flirtatious wink Bakura knew was meant for only him (there was no one but the pudding anyways, and Bakura held a serious doubt you could hit on _desserts_), "you can help my predicament?"

Ryou dropped the spoon to the floor, but Bakura wasn't aware of the _'clink'_ of metal hitting the cool tile of the kitchen floor. Every one of his senses was focused on the small, fragile boy creeping towards him at a slow, seductive pace.

Crawling into his lap (and right onto his groin), he permitted Bakura a sensual, exciting kiss. Tongues sliding, dancing, entwined as one, Ryou's small hand wandered to the top button of the jeans Bakura was wearing. When Ryou's hand made no other movements, Bakura growled, biting Ryou's bottom lip- not enough to draw blood, but enough to illustrate just what he wanted.

In a painstaking minute or so, Ryou had undone both the button and the zipper.

He couldn't help a laugh as Bakura moaned in desperate need and desire. He couldn't remember a time when he had ever seen Bakura in such a helpless, submissive state. It was a rare occurrence and Ryou didn't hide the smile that showed just how entertaining he found the idea.

Sliding the material down Bakura's legs, he noticed with increasing amusement that Bakura wasn't wearing any underwear. He didn't have to ask; he simply knew Bakura liked to be prepared for any situation- including one like this.

"Oh, yes," Ryou praised, glancing down with much unbridled excitement, "this spoon is _much_ better."

For a moment, Bakura believed Ryou to be joking. Perhaps he was making a humorous reference to Bakura's over-reaction to Ryou licking the spoon; Ryou teased Bakura on a regular basis and the idea that he might be making a joke would not be surprising to him. Looking down, his breath caught in his throat and he despairingly realized that Ryou wasn't kidding around with him.

His cock was a spoon.

_His cock was a spoon._

He didn't scream. Men like Bakura didn't scream. They cussed- as vibrantly as they could. "Holy _fucking_ mother of _fuck_"-

Bakura shot up from his previous position stretched out underneath the white sheets of his and Ryou's shared bed, his skin drenched in sweat, and his breaths and heartbeat at an irregular pace.

It was a dream. It was only a figment of his imagination. _It wasn't real._

"Thank gods," he breathed. It was strange- he had never considered the thought that he might fear the unrealistic idea of an apocalypse. Nor that Ryou would be the one to change his mind.

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><p><em>A few days later…<em>

"Oh look, Bakura! Someone sent us chocolate pudding!"

Bakura had the sudden thought that he may hold the gift of predicting the future.

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><p>XD Okay, I really like that last line.<p>

My, my. Where have I been?

As my friend would say, "Certainly not here." To which I would reply, "Because shut up."

Oh yes, I certainly adore my friends. :3

Joking pushed aside, I apologize for not writing. Writer's Block is a bitch... bastard... I'm not sure. I'm still deciding on the gender.

To make amends, I have plenty of one-shots planned out. Oh, and I am writing some new chapters and stories.

I have some important news on my profile, so I do request you go read that. You don't have to- _the fate of the world only depends on your decision_. No pressure or anything.

Review, if you will. You wouldn't want an early 2012, would you?

Oh, wait- too late. XD Happy new year!

Huggles~!

-_Beansprout-Ninja_ :D


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